A Whole 'Nother Kind of Hell
by KKBELVIS
Summary: Season Seven finale spoiler warnings! No rhyme. No reason. No poetry. Dean went to hell. Sam went to hell.This is a wish to see the boys together in hell…fighting their way out. Brothers. Warriors. Best friends. Side-by –side. Now a verse.
1. Chapter 1

A WHOLE 'NOTHER KIND OF HELL

By: Karen B

Summary**: Season Seven finale spoiler warnings!** No rhyme. No reason. No poetry. Dean went to hell for Sam. Sam went to hell for Dean/the world. I wish to see the boys together in hell…fighting their way out. Brothers. Warriors. Best friends. Side-by –side no matter what. Wallowing in the trenches and foxholes of Purgatory. This was born of that wish.

Disclaimer: Not the owner.

Rated: A 'nother kind of crazy. LOL.

**Exit light  
Enter night  
Take my hand  
We're off to never never-land - Metallica**

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Purgatory sucked ass. I'd been marching around for days; through miles and miles of nothing but endlessly looping, hellish, dark jungle. At least I thought it was days. The sun never set, because the sun never rose. It was always dark, and the air always fog-filled, always cold.

There was nothing here that followed the usual rules or supernatural patterns.

No flowing river nearby, that I could follow downstream to a town. No roads or trails. No high mountain vantage points to climb to gain a better lay of the land, and something told me trying to climb a tree would be a huge mistake. There were things that lived in those trees. There were things that lived everywhere. I wasn't sure what. All I ever saw were shadows. All I ever heard where grunts, and growls and howls. My mind seemed to play tricks on me. Maybe it was the lack of sunlight. Trees looked like faces and faces looked like trees.

Every direction was exactly the same as the other, making it hard to know which way to go, or if I'd passed that way before. Again, because there was never any sun, there was never any moss growing on any of the trees to tell which way was North or South. Direction by star – also not an option – as there weren't any of those either. The sky was one big, black blob of nothing that made me constantly wonder where the otherworldly light that lit this place came from.

There were no demons, no racks, and no mind games or hallucinations.

All I ever did was walk, moving cautiously and paying very close attention to my surroundings. I was well and truly lost, but I was never well and truly alone.

There were things that followed me along, glaring out at me from their confines of the darkly-framed jungle. I wasn't sure what they were exactly, but I knew they were many and I wasn't going to test my imagination and try and figure them out. I had nothing on me that would kill a ghost, let alone any big leaguers.

After a while of walking, I got bored and started running.

Searching.

For Cas.

For Sam.

For a Seven Eleven.

For a door, a window, a friggin' mouse hole – any way out.

There was nothing.

I ran and ran, catching glimpses of shadows – creepy shapes slithering and sneaking – glowing red eyes bouncing about – watching. Always close observers of my every move, but never touching. This place was overflowing with creatures. The constant sound of rustling foliage and heavy panting and the drip, drip, drip of drool was unnerving, yet not one ever challenged me. Nothing ever made one attempt to attack.

Didn't count myself too lucky as I figured it was only a matter of time.

I got the feeling these weren't the normal monsters I was used to killing – in hell or on earth. I had a whole new customer base on my hands. There were hundreds of exotic and rare supernatural beings here, more than likely, the worst of the worst of the worst – all under one roof.

Normally I could come up with a plan. Not this go-round. I'd racked my brain.

Only thing I came up with was that I was one-hundred percent pure beef. Juicy, and stringy, and cheesy, and chock-full of awesomeness, in a world I could hardly comprehend.

It gave me the chills. So much so, the little hairs at the back of my neck wouldn't lie flat, while beads of sweat brought the smell of my own B.O. to my nostrils. I didn't know what the hours of operation were here, all I knew was I'd been running my legs off, my ass, too. If I kept that pace up I'd be the new poster boy for Weight Watchers.

My endurance finally came to an end. I slowed to a jog, and then went back to a swaggering walk, picking up a large stick along the way. My only plan was to walk tall. Make them – whatever they were – fear me. Pretend I was the new sheriff in town, tap, tap, tapping my stick in the palm of my hand, threateningly.

"Anyone makes a wrong move, I will single-handedly clean up this town of all you bitches," I muttered, eyes darting around.

Nothing made a move. Good. And not so good. Now I was really starting to feel lonely.

Crazy in the coconut, Cas, hadn't showed back up. Not that his winged ass would have been any help to me. I was pretty sure he couldn't fly me home, and his 'how to guide' on extracting honey from wild beehives wouldn't help, neither would a naughty game of naked Twister. I winced at the image.

Couldn't figure out where he'd gone. There was no sun. Therefore no flowers, therefor no bees, therefore no honey.

Two thoughts kept running through me. Sam was here. Or Sam was home alone. Those were the only two scenarios I was willing to dip my toe in where Sam was concerned. If he was here…I'd find him. If he was home alone…I could only hope he stayed that way. I didn't need him to go and make the fatal mistake of trying to break into Purgatory.

This was a whole 'nother kind of hell I didn't want Sammy experiencing.

/~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/

Time was meaningless.

The loneliness and nothingness of this place was starting to get to me big time. Dragging me down. I kept hoping something would get brave and jump out from the shadows and bite me. Just so I could feel alive. A few times I even thought about charging into the shadows.

_Stupid Dean._

I had to get a grip. I took a breath. The air burned. Not like the sulfur of hell. Smelled more like rotten eggs, vomit, and rotten meat mixed together. The smell not only lingered in my nostrils, but lingered in my mouth too, making me gag.

I was stuck here, abandoned. Not even the monsters here wanted to eat me. I was stuck half-way between heaven and hell, and wandering aimlessly.

Nothing to do.

Nothing to fight.

No end in sight.

Just walking and walking and walking, chasing my own tail.

What for?

Who knew?

So I just kept walking, humming Metallica's Enter The Sandman.

Hours. Days. Minutes. Years. Centuries. I had not a clue. Time didn't seem to exist. I never slept. Was never hungry. Just nothing. A big, fat, nothing.

Suddenly something changed. Even though it was hot and as muggy as a rainforest, my blood ran cold. Like it always did when I knew the shit was about to hit the fan. Things started flying around all over the place. Winged things I had no words for because I'd never seen anything like them. Some appeared to be part bat, part dog. Some were thin and gangly, decomposing meat falling off their bones. Others were rubbery-skinned prehistoric lizards with huge jaws full of teeth, pointy horns and hooked claws. I quirked a brow at the things that looked like E.T. and Yoda had had babies. Crab-like creatures scuttled under my feet, while half-monkey, half-human creatures that were totally skinned from head to toe tried to eat them. Either that or they were breeding like rabbits. If I didn't know any better, I'd say this whole place was all a hoax. Either that or some back lot set of a new Steven Spielberg flick.

_Whatever. I was finally going to see some action._

I raised my stick like a ballplayer planning to hit one out of the park. But the strange and powerful creatures of this world attacked and ate one another leaving me standing in the center of the chaos – untouched.

Their screams earsplittting.

I dropped the stick, and gripped the sides of my ears, clamping down tight and cringing hard as the howls got louder and louder. The high frequency sounds reverberated through me were like a thousand beating island drums, threatening to suck my soul out through my nose and then shove it back in through my ass.

Just when I thought I couldn't take the racket any longer, it all stopped. There came a whooshing sound from high above, and a whistling through the air. Stabs of electricity shot through the sky, lighting the black blob for the first time.

"What the f – "I shielded my eyes with my hand and stared upward, feeling like a blind cave fish seeing for the first time.

It was so bright. Either the sun finally decided to show, only to crash and burn to the ground, or every alien out there decided Purgatory was their new Roswell. Red rain fell like burning blood from the sky, pooling around my feet and causing me to sink deeper into the spongy terrain.

My vision cleared enough just in time to see something very heavy and very large fall from the sky and splat to the wet, swampy ground only a few feet away. I couldn't make out what it was because it was covered in thick red glop and black mud. The shape didn't move, just laid there.

I realized the howls and fighting had stopped. So had the burning red rain.

I took one step closer, then froze. Continuing to stare at what looked like an elbow. "No." I shook my head and took another small step forward frowning as I sized up the object. Was no meteorite, no satellite, sure as hell wasn't a pile of frogs or toads. The bulk appeared to be stretched out full length. Six feet four inches, probably weighting in at two-ten, and still not moving.

My frown deepened as the shape took on a familiar form. "No, no, no." Something deep inside me shattered and lodged in my throat - I think it was my heart. "Nooooooooooooooo!" I launched forward, slipping and sliding in the goo, falling to my knees beside the unmoving mass. My hands trembled, hovering over the form that lay face down in the mud. "Oh, God, no," I whispered, biting into my lower lip, and gently putting a hand to his back. "Sam?"

Nothing. No movement. He didn't appear to be breathing.

"Sam!" I cried. No longer gentle, I grabbed the flaccid elbow and quickly flipped him over onto his back, pulling strands of goop-covered hair out of his face. Whatever the crap was, it was slimy and Sam was coated in the shit. Quilling my panic, I swiped the glop out of his mouth and nostrils best I could and hauled him up into my lap.

He was limp and heavy and lifeless.

"Damn it, Sammy!" I shook him roughly. "Breathe."

Sam responded immediately, jerking and gagging – a good sign.

"Bro!" In my panic, I shook him harder still.

"Guh." Sam's eyes snapped open and he stared right up at me. "Dee?" he croaked, shuddering.

"Hey, hey." I swiped more ooze away from his eyes and mouth and nose.

Sam's uncoordinated hand came up to his face, smearing more muck. "Dea…uhhh…." he hacked and coughed.

"Just hold it right here for a minute," I said, easily wrapping an arm around him and hauling him up, hugging him tightly against my chest.

"What? Where?" He struggled against me.

"Shh, easy, man."

Sam sank back, resting and trying to catch his breath.

I continued to clear away his airways, glancing around. Everything had gone stone quiet. Not a red eye or creepy shadow or messed up monster in sight. It was weird. I turned my attention back on Sam. He was staring up at me, focusing his eyes.

"It's you?" he whispered.

"Of course it's me."

"You're alive," he said it with aw, wriggling frantically to reach a hand up to my face, but was too weak.

I quickly grabbed hold, and squeezed tight. "It's me," I repeated, noting his sallow, haggard look and the dark-purple, half-moons under tired, sleepless eyes. "Holy crap, Sam, how'd you get here?" But before Sam could answer anger flared inside of me and I yelled, "Son of a bitch, Sammy! Why are you here! What the hell did you do? "

Sam opened his mouth to talk, but I cut him off.

"This is no three-day spa pass, bitch. There's no sleeping quarters, no food, no sun, no back roads, no salad shakes, nothing….only a zoo full of Dr. Frankenstein's rejects." I was spitting nails, I was so mad. "What are you doing here?"

"I – " Sam swallowed and closed his eyes.

I wanted to kill him. "Dude! How?"

"I – "

It struck me hard and fast, like a bullet to the brain. "You made a deal… didn't you?"

"I – "

"Answer me, Sammy!" I screamed my voice hollow and echoing.

"Don't yell at me, Dean." Sam shivered, taking in deep breaths, trying to control his trembling body.

My stomach knotted. I glanced up, sensing the freaks were back, cloaked in the shadows.

I glanced back down at my brother. "Sam," I released a shaky breath. God it was good to see him. Alive and kicking. I didn't want him here, but I was so glad he was here. "Then how?" I asked, clapping my hand to his shoulder, and rubbing my thumb back and forth soothingly. "How'd you get here?" I softened my tone.

"I don't remember much," Sam said, his erratic breathing slowing as he relaxed a bit, taking in his new environment.

"Welcome to Purgatory. It's a whole 'nother hell," I said sarcastically. "Joint is just one big geological abnormality that keeps going and going and never ends. Everything looks the same. I've been walking this labyrinth for –

"Five months," Sam injected.

"Five months," I uttered, in astonishment.

Sam nodded.

"Okay, then." I accepted the timeline. "So, what do you remember? "

Sam turned back toward me, blinking heavy lidded eyes. "I made a wish."

I drew back, taking in more of Sam's haggard look. His face was unshaven, his hair unruly, and he moved sluggishly.

I raised a brow. "What kind of a wish? A click your heels 'no place like home', wish? When You Wish Upon A Star, wish? Rub the Genie in the golden lamp sort of, wish? What?"

"Close." Sam struggled to stand. "A Genie in a fortune teller machine at an amusement park sort of, wish," he said, still taking in his surroundings.

"Like in that movie where Tom Hanks wishes to be…" I took Sam by the arm and helped him up to standing. "Big?" I asked, staring at his glob-coated face.

"Something like that," he said.

"Impossible," I drawled out.

"So's falling out of the sky." Sam closed his eyes and wobbled sideways.

"Whoa, Sam, you dizzy?" I gripped him tighter.

"Little bit. Think my right ankle's broken."

"Let me see." I bent down to look, but Sam stopped me.

"Trust me, Dean, it's broken."

"You just couldn't stay away could you?" I ground out, straightening up.

The monstrous things in the shadows started prowling and growling again.

"And miss the show?" Sam stiffened, and titled his head. "What is that?"

"If there was a Zoltar machine around here someplace I'd wish them all to be lions, tigers, and bears," I barked, sarcastically.

"That bad?"

"My bet… it's about to get worse, Sammy. You falling from the sky was the most action I've seen. So far they've never attacked me. Just constantly are watching. I've pretty much covered every square inch of this maze and there's nothing but what you see. Nothing ever changes. Can't tell which tree is which. It's always the same and it's always dark and I can't figure out the rules. You're the first thing that's changed here. How's that for five months' worth of hands-on research?" I snarled.

Even under all that glop on Sam's face I could tell he'd paled and his breathing and heart rate had picked up. I was dealing with a whole new set of emotions. Fear. Worry. Panic. Not for me, but for Sammy.

"Where do we go from here?" Sam asked.

"I'm up for random suggestions."

Sam looked at the black blob that was the sky. "Wish we had a rope, a set of stairs, a ladder."

We both held our breath and waited, but shockingly, nothing happened.

Sam shivered again and clutched at my jacket.

I sighed, there was nothing to do but keep moving. "You in too much pain to walk, pal?"

"I'm okay, Dean." Sam looked away hastily.

"Uh-huh." I dipped my head, catching his eye. "Because you look just peachy," I snipped, doubtfully. "Come on." I dragged Sam's arm across my shoulder and held it in place as I started us moving.

"Where to?" Sam hissed, stumbling along beside me.

"Going to get you out of here, Sammy."

"Dean, I'm supposed to be the one getting you out of here."

"Fine," I said, "New plan."

"Which is?"

"We get each other out. Together."

The end

**AN: Just needed the boys back together again. They've each had their own separate hell. I think it would be neat to see them fighting their way out of Purgatory together for once. A 'my hell is your hell' sort of theme. **

**Thank you for your time and care in reading!**

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	2. Unholy Light

UNHOLY LIGHT

Chapter Two

By: Karen B.

**Oh the Devil is rising with the moon  
He cries and my blood runs cold  
Oh no never was the darkness so black,  
No light and nowhere to go ~ Black Sabbath**

**Dedicated to: ****Ginnylove9990…here is another kooky chapter. Thank you for the inspiration to keep going.**

/~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/

I'd seen a lot. Had my share of nightmares, but in all that I've seen and all that I'd dreamt I'd seen, I could never come up with a place as evil and as creepy and as confusing as Purgatory.

The trees creaked and the phantoms moaned. Evil warty lizards and carnival sideshow freaks, or whatever the hell, lurked in every shadow. Continued to slink and slither and follow Sam and I along. Growling and yelping and growling. Aggressive and angry and tugging at the leash that appeared to be to tight around their necks as they still had not attacked us – only attacking one another on occasion.

We stepped into another swampy clearing and the moon came into view. Well sort of a moon. The sphere was abnormally big, very, very big, and eerily orangish-blood-red. It seemed to hover right at the waterline of the gooey black swamp looking like a glowing pumpkin against the black of the sky. Shadows swept across its barren surface, carving out the image of a face, a face that watched and sneered at us, daring and cocky and all knowing.

I normally didn't do creepy, but it was creepy and it raised the hairs on the back of my neck. Must have raised Sam's hairs too as a shiver shot down his spine and he tottered sideways.

"You okay?" I asked, pulling my brother closer.

Sam nodded.

"How's that ankle?"

"I'll let you know when we pass 'go' for the thousandth time," Sam muttered unhappily.

"Quit your bitching, bitch. I've passed 'go' a thousand times more than you and never once collected a dime," I snipped angrily. "The landscape all looks the same. Left, right, nothing changes." I eyeballed Sam. "You got any of your bright ideas?"

"We could find a get out of jail free card."

"Friggin' hysterical," I grumbled even angrier. "This is no joke, little brother. You shouldn't have come here. You should have stayed where you were," I said softly.

"We're not separating again. Wherever you go…I go," Sam hissed.

"That's just stupid. So if I jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge you would do the same?"

"Maybe." Sam shrugged.

"Ass."

"Hole."

I sighed. It was stupid, but deep down I was glad not to be alone anymore. And at least I knew where Sam was. I couldn't protect him if we were separated by the cosmos.

"The moon always look like that?" Sam asked.

"No. That's a first I've even seen a moon."

"So everything here isn't the same then."

"Feels the same. I look left , I look right, I look up, I look down...it's all the same. Even the trees are shaped the same."

"Sort of like highway hypnosis," Sam muttered. "Or velocitation."

"Violin what?"

"You know how you feel when you've been driving forever. Out of it? Like that time we drove through the state of Nebraska and nothing every changed."

"Sort of hypnotized?" I asked.

"Right. And when you got off the freeway and slowed down, you felt like you were crawling like a snail when actually you were going twenty miles over the speed limit and I warned you to slow down but you didn't and you got a two hundred dollar ticket?"

"Thanks for the memories," I said dryly. "So what you're saying is we could be in a trance-like state?" I shook my head in disbelief. "What? Like the friggin' Matrix, man?" I waved a hand around. "So this is all an illusion and our bodies are stored in some pod full of alien snot?" I shivered, flashing back to fairies and probing tables; which just served to piss me off even more. "And I suppose I am imagining you're Tiny Tim impersonation and the fact we could get chomped in the ass by Packman at any second?" I was getting really upset, damn near hyperventilating.

"We can't know anything for sure, Dean."

"You hippy," I grouched, sucking in a breath. "Now you sound like Mango Salsa for brains."

"Cas? He's here too?" Sam missed a step.

I gripped him tighter to keep him from collapsing. "I don't know," I said. "He was here, then poof …gone."

"Did you try to call him?"

"Called him, screamed for him, threatened him, and prayed for him in every language including Yiddish. I got nothing. He's probably off playing Jane Goodall teaching the monkeys how to play twister and how to collect honey in Ziploc bags," I huffed, kicking at a rock in frustration.

"Dean, just calm down," Sam whispered tiredly.

I couldn't help but be frustrated and okay scared. This place was bad, and with Sam's limited mobility we were sitting ducks.

_I hated ducks._

"Don't suppose you packed any provisions?" I asked, trying to change the subject. I wasn't hungry, but could sure do some nervous eating right about now. "Possibly a hamburger, some fries, a chocolate shake… an apple pie for desert." I eyed my brother up and down. Between us we didn't have two sticks to rub together, two nickels either, and certainly nothing up our sleeves.

"No," Sam answered in a snotty tone. "But I have a broiled lobster and a New York strip in my back right pocket."

"Awesome. How about –"I frowned, just noticing now that the constant loud growling around us had become little more than a whisper.

Sam must have noted the same change as I felt his heart beat faster and could almost hear the rush of blood flowing through his ever muscle as he stiffened. "Crap, Dean, now what?"

"Don't ask me."

"I am asking you. You were here first," Sam argued like a teenager, staring into the shadows.

"You're the geek who probably went and dug up every scrap of Intel on the place before you found your dumbass way here."

There came a low raspy whimper nearby.

"The books just confused me and made me ask more questions." Sam blinked hard, brushing away the cowlick that always seemed to poke him in the eye. "Besides, told you, don't remember much."

The moon, or whatever, suddenly slipped into the watery black pit and disappeared out of sight, eaten alive. The way I was certain everything here met its demise eventually. The air turned cold and gray and damp and full of biblical nothingness.

"What's happening?" Sam's voice quaked

"You tell me, make-a-wish," I said sarcastically.

There was just enough light coming from who-knows-where, to create strange shadow puppets in the forest around us, just enough light to make Sam's face glow with fear.

"Dean." Sam's eyes latched onto mine.

"I don't know, Sammy, think we're in for some Halloween fun."

"I hate Halloween," Sam deadpanned.

"I know," I sympathized with the kid.

We stood in the darkness, both of us tight throated with nothing to do but wait for what might come next.

Then it happened. Something was headed our way…correction two something's; one coming from the front the other one from the rear. They looked like boiled rats only with padding. Muscular and huge, both charging one another fast and hard, like Spanish bulls, only they didn't have horns, just very large sharp teeth. We were about to be T-boned, eaten or trampled to death.

"Sammy! Get down!" I yelled in a panic, doing the only thing I could do, ramming Sam off to the side. Quickly, I searched for my gun up under my jacket. "Shit."

_No gun. No way to defend ourselves. Not that a gun would have done the trick. I was certain that a gun meant nothing in this new world. _

My overzealous brother was suddenly up, hobbling in front of me on one foot. "Damn it, Sam, I told you to get–"

Sam seized me by my forearms and shoved me down to my back, using his body as a shield lying right on top of me – protecting – just as the two rat-like creatures slammed into each other in mortal combat.

"Son of a bitch." I tried to shove Sam away. "Get off me, douche bag," I bit out, but was powerless as the two rodents on steroids fought over us, teeth and claws and spikey rat tails entangled and locked together for dominance.

"You don't get to say who lives and who dies, Dean!" Sam screamed loudly, pinning me further and so near my face our lips nearly met.

I peered past him to the fighting going on over us. We were caught between the two giant ten-foot tall freaks trying to kill one another. Or maybe one was trying to make the other his bitch. Either way… I didn't care. They were spitting and screaming and drooling, and snapping and clumsily dancing all around, chunks of pink fleshy shit plopping around us. I could only assume it was body parts and blood.

"We can't stay here," Sam panted.

Sam was right. We were either going to get stomped into the ground, or eaten alive by the winner. The fighting was intense and as aggressive as I'd ever seen anything fight before; both trying to be King-Of- The-World. Way they were going at it neither one was going to come out the winner. They were going to kill each other.

My eyes brightened and I stared up at Sam who still lay flat on top of me like the girl he was.

"Don't look at me like that, Dean, you're flipping me out." Sam frowned.

"Shut up," I said dryly. "I got an idea."

"Shocking."

"Dude," I scolded.

"Okay, fine, what then?"

"'We leave these mothers alone and let them solve their own problems?"

One hairless rat stabbed the other hairless rat in the gut with its tongue; which acted like sort of a sword, while the other hooked a claw through the other's chest. Both were left hanging onto one another, thrashing in their death throes about to topple over onto us. Seriously, we were talking pancake city.

"No way are you running on that ankle." I took in a deep breath. "On three. We roll."

Sam nodded.

_This was going to be awkward. Keep cool, Dean, you have a job to do._

"One." I brought my legs up and scissored them around Sam. "Two." He slipped his arms beneath my back and we hugged each other close. "Three." I barrel rolled us like a log, over and over, keeping Sam wrapped up with me.

It would have been creepy-awkward, and for some reason the word 'Wincest' entered my mind. Was there such a thing? Couldn't think about that right now, I'd worry about our manliness later.

I couldn't see much, just could hear. Screeching and more thrashing on either side of us, but I didn't stop, just kept rolling us over the squishy ground in tandem, tightening my legs and arms around Sam.

Just when I thought I could roll no more, there came a huge meaty thud and the ground quaked. Sam's arms went limp and I stopped rolling, finding myself the one who got to be on top. I glanced to the side, squinting to see.

"How poetic. They…they killed each other," Sam said, and then gave a low whimper.

"Very poetic." I sneered down at Sam.

"What's so funny?"

"My turn to be on top," I laughed.

"Get the hell off of me, Dean." But before I could, Sam planted his feet to the ground and bucked me off.

"Mistake," Sam moaned and curled in onto his side. "Crap, crap, crap."

"Hey, hey , hey." I pulled Sam up and scooted him over to lean against a nearby tree.

"It's okay," Sam hissed. "Not bad. It's not bad."

"Dude." I reached trembling fingers down his leg to check his ankle. "You look like you're going to pass out cold."

"Don't," Sam murmured. "Don't touch it."

"Sam, I have to check you out. You're in a lot of pain."

"That's why I don't want you to touch it," he mumbled, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

"Whoa, Sammy!" I caught him just as he flopped ragdoll limp into my arms.

/~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/

Broken ankles are very painful injuries, but rarely life-threatening, unless you're in the land of misfit freaks and you need both your legs and feet to be fully functioning so you can run your ass off.

I'd done what I could for Sam. Splint his swollen, discolored and deformed ankle with sticks and some material I tore from my shirt. It was primitive at best.

I sat resting next to my passed-out-cold brother, trying to conceal us in the shadows, knowing I was doing a piss poor job of it. Glowing red eyes were always watching.

There wasn't much more I could do, so I sized-up the situation. Didn't' take long. Because there wasn't much to size-up.

We were trapped in the bullshit zone. I couldn't size-up the enemy, because I didn't know the enemy. I couldn't size-up the area, because everything continued to keep changing. Sizing-up our physical condition was easy. Sam was in a bad way, probably wasn't going to be able to put any more weight on that ankle, and I was exhausted and dumbfounded. Sizing-up our equipment was easy. We had none.

Dad's voice echoed in my head. 'In wilderness survival situations you have to use all your senses.'

Damn near impossible, this place was totally disorienting. Was like being on another planet.

Then I heard dad's voice again. 'Troubleshoot. There has to be something you can do. Figure it out. Do something. Anything. Never just sit on your ass and cry.'

So what could I do? I could remember who I was. I was a Winchester. I could tamp down my fear and panic and keep calm. Stay confident. I could improvise, watch and learn from the enemy, think fast, keep us moving. Maybe there was a hidden door. Maybe we were hypnotized and moving way too fast. I had to stay focused. I had to get Sammy out of here.

As if on cue Sam's slow breathing picked up and he struggled to come to.

"Easy." I carded my fingers through the kid's sticky hair.

An involuntary whimper left his lips and his eyes flicked open.

"Take your time, bro. You've been out for a bit."

Sam looked around and I gave him a minute to recover.

Something moved in the brush to my right and my head snapped up. I stared a long time at a toothy creature that sickeningly smiled back, but made no other move.

Sam whimpered again, scooting to sit up higher against the tree. "What is that?"

"Don't know. National Geographic would have a field day here," I said, my attention back on Sam, cupping a hand to his shoulder. "You with me now?" I asked.

Sam swallowed and took a moment to gather his breath "All the…all the way," he said.

"No chick flick moments, Sammy. Remember? Not even here." I got him up onto his feet.

"Right. I forgot, only manly guys doing manly things like fixing car and cruising woman and drinking booze."

"And?" I arched a brow at him.

"And…" Sammy smiled in that girlish way of his. "Kicking all these bitches in the ass."

"That's my boy."

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AN: I might add a few snips here and there throughout the Summer hiatus…a verse of sorts. Not sure the boys will ever find their way out of Purgatory, however. I'll leave that** fun stuff** for the show.


	3. Summer Block Party

SUMMER BLOCK PARTY

By: Karen B.

Summary: Season seven spoilers...Part three of Purgatory verse.

Disclaimer: Not the owner

Rated: No real rhyme or reason to my madness.

**Reader Beware**: Read at your own risk…this WIP…may never come to any real completion.

**Well I won't back down  
No I won't back down  
You can stand me up at the gates of hell  
But I won't back down**

**No I'll stand my ground, won't be turned around**  
**And I'll keep this world from draggin' me down**  
**gonna stand my ground**  
**... and I won't back down**

– **Tom Petty**

**Dedication: Thank you, Muckel, for the encourage to carry this on.**

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The gridlock we were trapped in was getting old. The whole no fuss, no muss, no running, no threats, it was wrong, very wrong, and the underlining reason why cold sweat dripped down my back and my gut whirred as if it were in a blender trying to puree itself.

There was no breeze, the air stagnant. No snapping of twigs or of jaws. No drooling or yelping or growling. Fighting or rustling through the brush. No bodiless red eyes watching.

Oh, they were still out there all right. I could smell them. Hear their soft whines of frustration.

I glanced over at Sam. He was all hunched over and leaning heavy on the crooked branch I'd found for him to use as a crutch. He moved slowly along. The stick sinking into the soft ground, slowing him even further. His head was bowed, staring down, watching each step intently through dripping wet bangs. He was barely functional, could hardly maneuver around small rocks and twigs. His breathing was coming harder and his injured foot dragged uselessly along like a ball and chain. Sam was exhausted, what was I talking about? He'd fallen into this place exhausted.

I let myself wonder what he'd gone through before the idiot skydived into Purgatory – without a parachute.

I know how I would have felt in his shoes. Hell I was in his shoes. Neither one of us knew where the other was. How he was. Or even if he was. It twits you up inside, engulfs you with fear and loneliness and panic for the others safety, his life. I'd crawled through ever dark forest, examined every blade of grass and tore my way through every hollowed out, bug infested log looking for a way out. Sam had obviously done the same looking for the way in. Tearing through every book, and typing his fingers down to nubs searching every web site. Both of us, I'm sure, bloodied our knuckles on the face of every single solitary soul or no-soul out there to try and find answers, find our way. Neither willing to lose the other again, but we had...until now.

A gasp of air slipped past Sam's mouth as he faltered a step, skin going milk-pale.

I bit into my lower lip forcing myself not to ask how he was. I knew how he was. He was in a bad way and I was really starting to worry. Sammy wouldn't be able to handle this much more.

"Stop it, dude." Sam lifted his head a few inches and looked right at me.

Even through the visor of wet, ruler-straight bangs that hung down over his face, I noted his eyes were small and edged with pain.

"Stop what, dude?" I mocked, feigning innocents.

"I can handle it, Dean," Sam said softly around dehydrated, cracked lips.

"You look like crap," I hissed.

"Dean –"Sam's protest was interrupted as he stumbled again, this time over a rough patch of rock.

I quickly caught him by the arm, drawing him back up before he could drop like a brick. "You don't only look like crap, you're full of crap. I have eyes, man."

Sam shot me the bitch-face and pulled a few inches away keeping me at arm's length, trying to straighten up his hunched back and walk tall…or should I say limp tall. Stubborn brother was determined to keep moving on his own.

I sighed, keeping a close eye on him as we continued onward in silence. Every time I thought the kid couldn't make it another step…he did. Baby brother's stubbornness went beyond explanation. I was glad for that.

The air was cold and a chill went straight through me. I didn't understand this in-between place and that scared me most of all. Sam hobbled away from me. A soft cloud of fog lingered just above the spongy ground, curling upward and hiding our feet. It all gave the feeling of impending doom. Like that little tingle you get just before a loud crack of lightning strikes the same exact place twice.

"Sam, stay close." I reached out and grabbed the cuff of his arm pulling him to me our hips bumping.

Sam leaned heavily against the stick."Any closer, Dean, and – "

"Just keep walking. Act normal."

"What is it?"

"I don't know. Think this summer block party might be gearing up into full swing."

"Nothing's changed," Sam said softly, trying to settle my obvious nerves.

"Neighborhood bad guys are still out there, you know,"I needlessly reminded.

"They haven't made a move for miles. On us or anything else."

"I know."

"So…what then?"

"Our guard is down, that's what's changed," I said, remembering one of dad's favorite mottos. "And when your guard is down –"

"That's when you get popped," Sam chimed in saying the words with me.

"They watch you and watch you and watch you. Make you think you're safe. Then out of the blue they kick it up a notch, then two, then three," I continued on. "Then…**bam!**" The word came out a little too loud startling Sam and making him jump.

"Yeah, okay Emeril, chill. I get it," Sam muttered tiredly.

"Do you?" I yelled, directing my attention to the dark forest around us. "Because these freaks are enjoying this, Sammy." I stared at a pair of red eyes off to my left. "Aren't you? You sons of bitches! Killing us just isn't enough. Is it?" I spat, and the red eyes disappeared. "They're bored, little brother, tired of eating dinner handed to them on a paper plate, then lazily picking bloody globs of flesh and bone from between their teeth with ten inch claws because there's nothing else left to do in this hell. They're keeping us in check, having some fun before they eat us alive, starting with our hearts."

The glowing red eyes were back. Bodies swallowed up by blackness as they silently followed us along. I heard something deep inside me suddenly snap. "Screw this!" I bent down and picked up a large rock and threw it full force at the bodiless eyes.

"Dean," Sam uttered quietly, freezing right beside me.

"Sam it's been a crapshoot right out of the box. Time to make a new box."

"Man, are you crazy?"

"Cas is the crazy one, bro." I threw another rock knowing by the sound of the thud I'd hit something solid and fleshy.

"We don't need the extra attention, Dean. You got rocks in your head?" Sam's entire body was shivering, and his breathing shallower.

I fired off a few more rocks.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm taking a stand," I said, picking up a stick. "Fetch, freaks." I pitched it into the darkness. "Not going to stand around and do nothing while I wait to be eaten by a bunch of monsters…" I picked up rock after rock, stick after stick, casting them out in a shooting frenzy. "…With brains the size of gerbils..." Hot brazen anger coursed through my body, every muscle bulging and straining beneath my jacket. "That's it, bitches." I smiled when a group of red glowing eyes reappeared, boring into mine. "Come on! Bring it on," I threatened.

My rock throwing was stopped abruptly when Sam's hand clamped down on my arm, his fingers digging into my skin. "Dean. Think you're about to get your way."

Out of the shadows they crept. A pack of…of…of I didn't know of what. They stood side- by-side, shoulder to huge shoulder. All of them looking like medical experiments gone way wrong. Blobs of big bulky, wrinkled flesh, some had only one eye, some had two, others appeared to be completely blind. Some had noses like elephants, others like the snouts of pigs, necks as long as giraffes. Some had wings, some had feathers, one had the shaggy hair of a buffalo, but all of them had teeth, gleaming white, salivating for blood teeth.

"You got their attention," Sam drawled out, hobbling unsteadily he put more of his weight on the stick and off his bad ankle. "All of them," he uttered as even more carnival sideshow acts joined the pack. "You happy now?"

"Pleased as pie."

"That'd be punch."

"What?"

"Pleased as punch."

"Shut up."

The freaks were in an uproar. Hackles rose – if they had hackles. Mouths opened. Tongues licking, teeth barred. Guttural grunts came from deep inside their swelled throats, and for some reason, that I could never explain, I smelled the sweet smell of our own blood.

"What the hell are they?" Sam whispered, not moving a muscle, only his fingers digging in taking a tighter hold on my arm.

"They're creepy and they're kooky, mysterious and spooky," I chuckled under my breath.

Sam grunted his complaint at my humor. We both stood frozen watching as the creatures pranced nervously in their spots, like horses at the starting gate. Madness and mayhem and bloodthirstiness sparkling in their glowing eyes.

"We are so screwed," I said, not taking my eyes off the monster pack.

"Agreed," Sam garbled.

"This is the one time I wish you wouldn't," I muttered softly.

"I can't argue with that," Sam deadpanned taking in a few calming breaths.

"Argue, Sammy, argue."

"Sorry, Dean."

The gruesome bunch raised their heads, and howled and shrieked and screamed in unison. The sound of their tormented souls was loud and echoing around every corner of the underworld. All the hairs on my body – and I mean every hair – stood on end.

"Dude," I bit into my lower lip, my bravado sinking to my feet, "Now what?"

"Random thought," Sam said in a shaky voice, dropping the walking stick-in-the-mud, literally.

"Another one?"

"Run!"

"Good thought." I gripped Sam around the waist and pinned him to my side, turning heels and running.

The sky above us grew darker, if that was possible and a cold blowing wind cut right through me. I didn't look back. Didn't have to see to know we were being chased. I could hear the deep grunting growls, claws dragging in the dirt; smell the stench of infection and disease and death.

The massive bodies were closing in on us. I could feel the heat of their breath. Sam kept tripping over his own feet.

"Faster, Sammy. Gotta move faster," I panted, dragging him along over the spongy ground.

Sam responded to my urgency best he could, his good leg moving faster, his bad leg not doing much of anyting as he desperatly tried to match my pace, gasping for breath.

I glanced back once. It seemed like all of Purgatory had joined the hunt. Every 'Who' down in Terrorville nipping at our heels, at our heads, trying to jam themselves up our asses, get a hold of our hearts. Yet, they were controlled. They could have swallowed us both by now ten times over. Could have hacked and whacked and slashed us into potatoes and gravy, and hadn't. They were herding us, forcing us where they wanted us to go. To the right, to the left, to the right again we ran.

"Dean," Sam breathed out heavily. "I don't like this. We're being herded like sheep."

"To the slaughter," I put in. "I know, man."

We ran and ran through the oddly shaped trees, many looking as if they were alive with bulging eyes and grinning mouths and creepy twisted arms that reached out toward us but never touched.

A pig's snout chomped at my left side and I veered us right. Big mistake. Straight ahead was the gapping, jagged toothed mouth of one of those hairless rats. Behind us the rest of the pack was gaining. Only other option was to veer left along an outcropping of boulders.

"Son of a bitch." This was it. Simple geology. We'd deadened ourselves into a corner. Boxed-in. Finished. I whirled Sammy around and slammed him hard – back first – up against the rocks.

Sam didn't cry out in pain nor did the deadly slashing of claws come to rip my spinal column out my ass. Fear was replaced by confusion as we both seemed to fall through the rocks as if we were ghosts.

Not wasting the time to figure out what just happened, we stumbled back into a full on run.

"Come on, Sam." I kept the kid upright, kept him moving, our hearts pumping, blood rushing, and sweat pouring down our faces.

"Wait." Sam slipped over rocks and got caught up on protruding logs. "D'n, wait," he called out barely able to find his breath, and struggling to keep his one good foot from buckling under his weight.

"No waiting, dude. We got to keep going. They're right behind us."

"That's just it," Sam's steps faltered. "Guh." He doubled over in pain and exhaustion. Missing a step he tripped and fell, unceremoniously landing on his knees and bringing me down to mine with him.

I hit the ground hard, just as exhausted. We were outnumbered and out gunned, more than out gunned; I didn't even have a gun. All I could do now was the same as before. Protect Sammy. I pulled my brother close, ducked over him and shielded him the best I could. Inhuman freaks would have to chew through me before they got to Sam. I was actually trembling with fear. Now I knew how the guys in those horror flicks felt waiting and knowing the ending was coming. Knowing when Freddie, or Jason, or axe crazy Jack was about to do them in, the end bloody and horrible.

It took me a minute to realize everything had gone perfectly still and quiet. No more deep grunting growls. No more rustling of leaves or snapping of jaws.

I didn't move, staring down at the rocky ground realizing we were out of the foggy forest. I lifted my head and glanced all around. The pack of freaks had disappeared. I should have felt relieved, but a wave of panic came over me instead. I looked at Sam, his panic matching mine.

Everything had changed drastically. The forest was gone. The area lit like someone turned on a black light in a dark room. The ultraviolet kind of light used to make those velvety posters glow in the dark. I glanced over at Sam to see his white teeth glowing even whiter, his face shaded purple and also glowing.

"Do I look like a blueberry?" I glanced down to examine my own hands, and then back up at Sam.

"Bluer than blue," Sam assured, his breaths coming fast and hard.

"Yeah, well don't get too cocky, Toto, because so do you. I don't think we're in crazy town anymore," I smirked, looking behind us seeing nothing but blackness. "Freaks hauled ass a little too willingly," I commented. "No fuss. No muss. No bloody Dean or shredded Sam. Can't be good," I muttered.

Still trying to find his breath, Sammy nodded. "Labyrinth," he gasped. "We accidentally found some sort of doorway in that rock."

"Huh?"

"A maze," Sam uttered.

"For what?"

"Experimental rats," Sam guessed, his forehead wrinkling.

"No accident," I conquered.

"Maybe not," Sam said. "Whole place is probably one, big giant complex puzzle."

"Like in 'The Shining'?" I looked to the river. It was more of a creek; the water didn't look deep, steady and slow moving over rocks and branches flowing around a bend and out of sight.

"Or Alice In Wonderland." Sam gripped tighter at my forearm and with the strength of a soggy toilet paper roll and started to pull himself up.

"Where do you think you're going?" I stood with him.

"The river," Sam gestured with a chin tip toward the creek.

"Another random thought?"

"No yellow brick road. River's the next best thing." Sam leaned against me wincing at the pain that had to be tearing through his ankle.

"That's it. Come on, Sasquatch." I turned to face him, grabbing his right hand with my left and pulling it over my shoulder about to haul him into a fireman's carry.

"Dean. What the hell are you doing?"

"Carrying you, stupid."

"I can walk." He pulled free, resisting my help.

"We can fight over this later. You're really hurting, Sam."

"I'll let you know when I can't go another step," Sam stared at me with wide honest eyes.

"Fine," I sighed, "Didn't want to carry your Clydesdale ass anyway." I looped my arm around his waist holding him to my side and heading us to the creek.

Sam's breathing was heavy and his steps heavier, but the kid had dredged up some super human strength and kept going.

We entered the river. The water was cold and ankle deep. That was the good news as it would help with the pain and swelling in Sam's broken ankle. The bad news was the water had a strange sort of metallic pearl like glow to it. Sam's word 'experimental' kept filtering through my mind– crap could be Chernobyl for all we knew. I watched for any sort of movement under the current, weaving in and out of the slick, slimy glow-in-the-dark rocks.

"What kind of game are we playing now?" I wondered out loud.

"I think –" Before Sam could finish his sentence it was like he'd slammed into a glass wall going down face first with a splash before I could grab him.

"What the f…" I dropped down and grabbed hold of him under the armpits and pulled him up, and quickly turned him over.

He came to me floppy, limbs useless and eyes closed.

"Sam!" I shouted, worriedly checking his breathing and pulse.

Both were there. Steady and strong. Kid had just passed out. It shouldn't really have come as any surprise. Sam had far exceeded his energy and pain levels long ago.

"If this is you letting me know, bro." I swiped gooey, glowing mud from his eyes and nose and mouth, noting the bump on the center of his forehead, where seconds ago had only been beads of sweat. "I have to say you suck." I bent in closer to his face. "You suck, Sammy!" I said louder.

Sam moaned, but didn't open his eyes.

"Hey, hey. Sam!" I gave him a tiny shake, the panic evident in the way my own body was shaking.

Right away Sam struggled to open his eyes and squinted up at me casually as if he'd just been woken from a short catnap. "Wha…what'd I miss?"

"You past out," I said. "Cold," I added, totally pissed off he didn't give me a heads-up. "Explanation enough," I snapped.

"S-sorry," Sam muttered, "Must have gotten lightheaded."

Our eyes keep locked. "No kidding," I said angrily, still freaked out.

"Sorry," Sam muttered again, his head dipping down in his off balanced state.

I lifted him up and all but drug him to the river' bank. "You okay?" I reached a hand up, tenderly inspecting the small knot on the center of his forehead wiping away the beads of sweat forming under his bangs. "Shit, Sam."

"What?" He looked at me blankly.

"You've got a bit of a fever, buddy."

"So."

"So I need to find us someplace safe and dry where you can rest. I won't be gone long. Just wait for me here." I stood up and took two steps away.

"Dean, no!" Sam scrambled upward somehow getting his one foot properly under him. "I'm coming with." Never taking his eyes off me, Sam hobbled my way, his right hand outreached.

"Sammy, damn it, your stubborn ass can't go another step." I went to meet him halfway.

I reached out for him, our fingertips just meeting when octopus-like tentacles suddenly whipped out of nowhere and looped around Sam's waist like living vines snatching him away from my reach and from my sight.

I stood stunned, paralyzed. My hand still held in the air where just a second ago our fingers touched. I stared in confusion at the empty spot Sam had just been in. I wanted to scream his name out, but it was all too late. Sam was gone.

As if he was never here…gone, and I was all alone in this nightmare once again.

WIP….

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